


Knock

by hit_the_books



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Cock Rings, Covid-19 Related, Crushes on other people, Dean Winchester is Older Than Castiel, Domestic Fluff, Engineer Dean Winchester, Gags, M/M, Masturbation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Punk Castiel (Supernatural), Roommates to lovers, Sex Worker Castiel (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:02:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23319562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hit_the_books/pseuds/hit_the_books
Summary: Dean and Cas have been living together as roommates for about a year when the COVID-19 pandemic forces Douglas County health officials to issue a "stay at home" order. With Dean working from home and Cas trapped there with him, Dean starts to realize that he doesn't really know much about the younger man he's living with.And then he knocks on and opens up Cas's bedroom door one day and discovers far more than he was expecting.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Past Dean Winchester/ Lisa Braeden
Comments: 14
Kudos: 55
Collections: Lock Down Fest





	Knock

**Author's Note:**

> This is a WIP. I'm hoping to fit some writing here in and there as this global situation continues and I'm stuck working from home.
> 
> I am currently committed to a bunch of bangs though, so those take priority. But I needed to do something with this plot bunny, so here we are.

“Wanna coffee?” Dean called over to his roommate Cas who was sat on their white leather couch watching _Sons of Anarchy_ for the third time... in two years.

“Uh, make it a peppermint tea. If I drink anymore caffeine today, I’m going to vibrate out of the window, and that would go against the stay at home order from the county health department.” Cas grimaced and then let his attention refocus back on his show, baggy knitted sweater shifting with the movement.

That was the most Cas had said all day. Dean rolled his eyes and pushed back from his desk, locking his computer as he stood. He stretched, the loose jeans he was wearing threatening to slip from his hips, and walked over to the kitchen in their mainly open plan, loft apartment.

Dean had been ready for a “stay at home” order to be put in place. He’d been ready for days, or rather, where he worked had been. AquaWheels’ president and VPs had seen the writing on the wall the week of the 14th and had been working hard to get as many of their people set up at home as they possibly could.

They had deadlines to meet after all, though Dean wondered if they’d be able to get enough machine staff together in time for the next prototype. So, Dean had been working from home for just under a week when the order started on March 24th. Working all sorts of hours.

The bookstore his roommate worked at had already closed before the order came in and Dean was a little worried about whether Cas would be able to meet his side of the rent. All Dean knew was that his roommate had some money he got through some kind of trust fund or something, but he suspected it wasn’t tonnes as Cas spent his life in holey jeans, wrecked tennis shoes, baggy and laddering knitted sweaters. And the other source of income was his sales clerk job at that indie bookstore. A big apartment like theirs that was nice and modern wasn’t exactly cheap.

But Dean was less worried about making the rent and more worried about his parents and little brother. His dad was showing no sign of wanting to slow down. Instead his dad had turned into a constant source of grief for his mother who was working extra hard to make sure John Winchester didn’t leave the house. He had lung issues thanks to his years in construction without wearing protective masks—he wasn’t 70, but emphysema was a pretty good reason to not get tangled up with COVID-19.

It didn’t matter how many times their younger son, Sam, an ER doctor, told John to stay the hell at home and why (in detail), John had still been trying to sneak off for drinks with the boys. Their mom, Mary, was a saint for handling it all and had been taking Sam’s advice very seriously.

Still, Dean worried about Sam being at the front line of this whole thing, though his brother kept reassuring him that the hospital was keeping the staff as safe as they could. And he worried about the other people he thought of as family who were marooned in their own parts of Lawrence. He’d done his best to phone round each day and make sure everyone had what they needed.

It was difficult for Dean to sit down and work through the day, working in AutoCAD and taking calls, checking Kanbans and advising on technical documentation, with all that was going on in the world outside. It was also tough to work when your normally reasonable roommate was acting more coolly than usual.

Normally Dean could get more conversation out of Cas, but since the whole mess had become more real for everyone, it had been tough to talk. He’d asked the usual questions he’d asked any of his friends, like Charlie— _Are you in touch with family? Friends? You got everything you need?—_ but Cas had stiffened at the mention of family and then just shrugged. That was on Monday.

Dean washed his hands and then set to work making hot drinks. Pulling out the grounds from the refrigerator, and getting the filters from a cupboard overhead, Dean tried to focus on the work problem that had made him push away from his workstation in the first place. But as he reached for the box of peppermint tea in the cupboard, he just couldn’t think about work.

Truth was, Dean didn’t know much about Cas and his family. Cas, over the year of the two of them living together, had gotten to know Dean’s family and friends. Even spending last Thanksgiving with the Winchesters. But Cas always clammed up whenever the subject of his own family came up. With the theorized trust fund, Dean suspected money was there somewhere, but the punky-grungy outfits, tattoos and piercings had Dean thinking maybe family black sheep.

He couldn’t imagine what kind of rift could have happened, though Dean remembered a time when Sam and their dad were at each other’s throats almost every night. Still, they talked happily enough in the present. Even hugged—something Dean couldn’t have imagined when Sam was 16.

Cas was, as far as Dean could tell, a young twenty-something loner, who spent most of his time binging box sets, reading, playing videogames on his PlayStation, chatting online with random people, listening to random ass stuff on Spotify real loud in his room (with soundproofing that only just made it okay) and working at the bookstore on weekends. Conversely, Dean was 40 and normally spent his free time out at Bobby’s garage, fixing up his dad’s old Chevy Impala or hitting the gym at the office. Sometimes he played golf with one of the VPs, but that was only every so often. Like once a month.

And with no gym or golf for the foreseeable future, working out from home was something that Dean was taking the time to get use to. He’d found an online instructor who had some good videos for core workouts and HIT with minimal kit in the home. It helped that Benny and his assistant Pamela were pretty sweet looking, but Dean was genuinely getting a good long work out each morning.

 _When did I last get laid?_ Dean asked himself as the grounds settled in the coffee maker and the kettle went on the stove. _Was it… Uh…_ Dean tried to think back on the few dates he’d had since moving in with Cas and realized that it had been more than a year and that was with his ex, Lisa. He still talked with Lisa, but that ship had sailed. Looking around the apartment, Dean saw the blank walls in their communal space and wondered what had he been doing with himself for the past year.

Waiting for the coffee maker and the kettle, Dean looked over to his new workstation area in a far corner of the living room. _Work_ , he thought miserably. Because he’d been pulling long nights and some weekends, desperately working to help his bosses at AquaWheels keep their investors happy as they tried to find a hydrogen powered car design that worked. It was an iterative process, but venture capital was always a hungry master.

Still, regardless of how much Dean worked, Dean had no idea what Cas really did when he wasn’t there at the apartment. And the more time he spent around Cas as the world outside came to a stop, the less he understood him.

The kettle started to whistle and Dean took it off the stove top. He poured the water into a mug, peppermint teabag waiting and set Cas’s mug down. Dean went over to the coffee pot and poured himself a fresh cup and left it black. Taking the drinks over to the couch, Dean looked over to his desk again and shook his head at himself. He set the drinks down on the coffee table and settled against the couch cushions. Sons of Anarchy was still playing on the screen, but he didn’t recognize where the characters were.

“Where we at?” Dean asked, like he normally did when he was on the couch and Cas was watching one of his shows.

“The club have just gone to Northern Ireland. Belfast specifically,” Cas explained.

Dean nodded and settled against the cushions. It was almost six and he’d been working since seven that morning. _Maybe I’ve done enough for today_ , Dean thought and sighed, trying to think of anything other than the mystery of what his roommate spent his life doing.

Getting his cell out of his pocket, Dean went onto Twitter and instantly regretted it. He closed the app and sighed, unable to get into what Cas was watching. He glanced over at Cas, who was engrossed in what he was watching, and studied the tattoo peeking out from the collar of Cas’s sweater. It was a blue, shining, dragon head, all swirls and flames, detailed black lines helping to give shape. Dean had caught sight of more in the past, but the memory was fuzzy, with Cas often wearing baggy sweaters, or t-shirts in the summer, keeping much of the artwork on his body covered.

Looking away from Cas, Dean decided he didn’t know what to do with himself. His cell had once been a source of pleasant distraction, but in the past few weeks it had increasingly become a source of rising blood pressure and headaches. Picking up his coffee, Dean tried to figure out what to do with himself if he wasn’t working for the rest of the day. With the two of them locked down, they’ been taking it in turns to cook dinner and sometimes lunch—it wasn’t Dean’s turn to cook, but he was bored.

“Hey, why don’t I cook dinner, huh? I looked up this sweet burger recipe earlier and I’m itching to try it out.” Dean stood, taking his coffee with him.

The episode Cas was watching rolled to credits and Cas stretched enticingly, forcing Dean to look away. “Sure, knock yourself out.”

There was a buzzing sound and Cas palmed his own cell, quickly looking at the screen and then stuffing it back in the pocket of his ripped jeans. “Holler when it’s ready,” he added and got to his feet, heading for his room. The mug of peppermint tea left on the table untouched.

Before Dean could reply and remind him of the tea, Cas’s bedroom door closed and Dean was by himself. Sighing again, he stepped over to the kitchen, finishing his coffee as he reached the counter and set the coffee mug in the sink. Washing his hands again, Dean set about getting what he needed to make burgers.

Sam had been curious when Dean had decided to live with a roommate again, considering what he was earning at AquaWheels. But the breakup with Lisa had made Dean feel like he wasn’t ready to live by himself yet and he’d seen Cas’s ad. It had taken less than a week for Dean to move in and maybe he’d questioned a little, in his head, how Cas could afford the place, but the trust fund idea had settled in his mind early and he just kept reminding himself of it whenever he wondered too much.

With practiced motions, Dean shaped the burger patties having added the new spice and herb mix the recipe suggested. Normally he was a salt and pepper kind of burger guy, but cooking was offering Dean his only chance to shake things up a bit as he dealt with stay at home life. He tried not to think of what other culinary adventures he might need to think of, especially if they had issues restocking.

When the food was finally cooked, Dean set their small dining table beside the kitchen area and headed towards Cas’s door. He knocked and called Cas once. Twice. Three times, but Cas didn’t respond. Their rule was usually not to go into each other’s rooms if there was a sock or tie on the door. But Cas had done no such thing.

Dean went back to the table and waited five minutes, but there was still nothing. He started on his burger and fries, enjoying the herbs in the patty and prayed he didn’t have to reheat Cas’s food, because it definitely wouldn’t taste so good after. Fifteen minutes once he’d started eating, there was still no sign of Cas.

Finishing up his own food, and now a little concerned, Dean headed back over to Cas’s door and knocked again. There was still no answer.

“Hey, Cas, you okay? Your food’s getting cold.” Dean put his ear to the door, but couldn’t hear anything through it. “Look, I’m coming in.”

Slowly, Dean opened Cas’s bedroom door, sound slowly leaking through.

“That’s it, work it for me,” said an unfamiliar guy’s voice.

It was like a slow motion horror movie, the way the door opened up despite part of Dean’s brain telling him to stop, but he couldn’t stop himself.

On the far side of the room was Cas on his bed, blinds closed, PC and webcam on and pointed at him. Cas was naked, tattoos nearly moving in the room’s low light, on his knees, bright red ball gag in his mouth, cock ring nestled behind his shaved balls, dick hard and veiny. His hand was pumping his dick with gusto. His face was a picture of sweet torture and Dean felt his mouth going dry as he backed out of the room.

A floorboard creaked as he did and Cas’s eyes flew to him, panic in them clear as day.

Dean looked away and closed the door. He walked back over to the table and sat back in his seat, pushing down his own chubbing cock.

 _What do I do? What was that? What is going on? Oh my god. Oh my god…_ Dean tried to breathe and not rub himself at the same time. He was still turned on and shocked, and quickly turning into an absolute mess. And he had no idea how Cas was doing.

Five minutes passed and finally Cas emerged, soft gray sweats and a black baggy band tee on. He walked over to the table and sat down opposite Dean. Cas pulled his cold dinner closer and started munching on cold fries.

“So,” Dean started, wondering if he should get a whiskey bottle for this conversation.

“So,” Cas mimicked.

They both struggled to meet each other’s eyes. Dean rubbed awkwardly at the back of his neck and tried to get his tongue to work along with the rest of his mouth and vocal cords, but all that came out was a “hrm” as he cleared his throat.

“Look, I can, uh, explain.” Cas picked at his burger.

“Okay,” Dean said.

“I’m a cam boy.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading. Kudos and comments appreciated.
> 
> You can find me on Pillowfort at [dreamsfromthebunker](https://www.pillowfort.social/dreamsfromthebunker), Dreamwidth at [hit_the_books](https://hit-the-books.dreamwidth.org/), Tumblr at [hitthebooksposts](https://hitthebooksposts.tumblr.com/).


End file.
